


An Ode to Very Old Scars

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Helwater, M/M, but we love him, jamie is a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: When Jamie offers himself to John Grey and is turned down, he makes a shocking discovery about himself and what he wants.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 19
Kudos: 319





	An Ode to Very Old Scars

It had taken time for Jamie to work up the courage to ask Grey what he was about to ask him. In these years with Willie, it hadn’t just been he and Willie, or Willie and the Dunsanys. It had so often been he and Willie and John Grey. He was good with him, Grey was, good-natured, protective, but he did not let the boy run wild either. Jamie liked Isobel well enough, but he wanted to know his son wasn’t losing every man in his life, just because he was losing Jamie. If he could get Grey to promise he would come back and check on Willie, as he’d come back so often for him, Jamie’s mind could be more at ease. He would do what he needed, and he’d settled on an idea of how to secure John Grey’s word.

Jamie could only barely remember what it was like to have sex with someone he wanted to have sex with. Memories of Claire were strong sometimes, but more and more they were like trying to hold on to pieces of dream in the moment of waking. There had been no one since Willie’s mother blackmailed him into sex, and barely anyone before.

It had hurt when Randall had taken him—but BlackJack had wanted it to hurt. He was rather certain it didn’t have to hurt, if done with care. And a quiet, curious part of him wondered what it would feel like to have sex with someone again… someone who knew him and liked him, who he knew and liked too.

It was a silly thought—a fleeting one—and Jamie pushed it aside.

When Grey had told him he was marrying Isobel, he was shocked by the strange twist in his guts. On one hand, he felt for Isobel, marrying a man who was not in love with her, but it wasn’t only that. It was something else. A silly thought. A fleeting one that he pushed aside. This should be good news, after all.

“I have no right to think ill of you, if ye mean no dishonor to the lady.”

“Certainly not,” Grey said. “Besides,” he added more cheerfully. “It means I will be here permanently to see to Willie.”

The words softened Jamie. He hadn’t even had to suggest it. Grey had the idea himself, to look after the boy. It provided an unexpected sense of camaraderie, as if they were on the same side for once, striving together towards the same goal.

“You mean to resign your commission then?” If Grey were to stay here, he couldn’t remain a soldier.

“Yes.” Grey had a smile that bizarrely reminded him of Willie’s, as if the boy had somehow picked up his mannerisms during the time they’d spent together. “It will be a relief, in a way. I was not meant for army life, I think.”

Jamie said nothing, but thought the British army could actually use men like John Grey. Fierce but gentle. Good, in a way he so rarely encountered in the world. Steadfast, like the feeling when you’re getting into port and the anchor drops.

With Grey marrying Isobel Dunsany, he no longer needed to request he visit Willie to check in on him, but still, it was an enormous request that a man act as father to a child that was not truly his own. Besides, he had already worked up the courage…

“I should be… grateful, then. If you would stand as stepfather—to my son.” Saying the word ‘son’ nearly knocked the breath out of him. “I would be… obliged to you.” These words were barely squeezing through his throat. He could feel the heat of blood in his cheeks. “In return…if you want… I’d be willing to.. that is…”

Grey laid a hand on his arm, and the touch, laid over linen, made him imagine, however brief the feel of those same hands on his bare skin.

“My dear Jamie, are you actually offering your body to me in return for my promise to look after Willie?”

Hearing Grey lay out before him those words he found so hard to say nearly knocked him back off his feet. But it was precisely what he had meant and he would have to say so.

“Aye,” Jamie said, heart frantic in his chest, though he hoped the other man was not able to see.

Grey looked stunned, but then smiled.

“Dear God, that I should live to hear such an offer.”

“You dinna want me then?”

“I shall probably want you til the day I die, but tempted as I am do you really think I would accept?”

Jamie had actually, if he managed to get up the courage to ask, which he had. And now he felt strangely dizzy at Grey’s rejection.

“I should say my honor most insulted save I know the depth of feeling that prompted it.”

“Aye, well,” Jamie muttered.” I dinna mean to insult ye.” He found it even harder to look at Grey now than he had before.

Grey reached up to touch his cheek. There it was. That hand on bare skin, and he found he did not mind it. Maybe, for the first time since Claire, he was being touched by someone who could want him for his own sake, rather than their own.

The touch dropped away and Jamie found himself unsteady from the loss.

“It’s getting late,” Grey said. “I suppose you have a great many things to do today.”

I had made time for this, Jamie thought, but again said nothing. He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should be about my business.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Grey tugged down the points of his waistcoat, a move he always did as he was preparing to leave. All Jamie could think in that moment was that he did not want him to leave. Not yet, not before…

Jamie stepped forward and cupped Grey’s face between his hands. His skin was warm and soft, pale pink contrasting with the bronze of his own rough hands. Jamie leaned in and touched his mouth to John Grey’s.

Something tumbled between his ribs like falling rocks. With fortitude, he held himself back. It had been so long since he’d felt anything from a kiss, and this had been the last place he’d expected to find that feeling again.

Jamie pulled back, stunned at himself.

Grey was blinking back at him, those wide eyes warm and heavy.

Jamie could step away, could disappear and let this moment be what they had between them. But, he could not deny, even if he wanted to, what he had just felt. This time, when Jamie Fraser kissed John Grey, he kissed him with an open mouth.

He tasted sweet red wine and rosemary sprigs, felt the ridges of Grey’s teeth on his tongue and heard the man’s soft whimper as he melted into Jamie. Then, Jamie felt strong hands on his chest pushing back.

“Stop,” Grey said, dragging in air in rough gasps. “Jamie, I don’t want you on these terms. I don’t want this to be something you’re doing for me.”

“I ken that, John. This is not for you.”

“It certainly can’t be for Willie either.”

Jamie ducked his head down, staring at his own boots in the dirt. “Ye are truly going to make me say it, aren’t ye?”

Grey didn’t reply, just raised a curious eyebrow and held Jamie in his gaze.

“I want ye. I dinna ken why.”

A shaky breath escaped Grey’s mouth, and he leaned in to whisper, “Then, come with me.”

When Jamie had imagined the consequence of offering his body to John Grey, he had imagined being secretly spirited away to the man’s chambers and being bent over the sturdy oak desk near the window. He’d hoped for oil to ease the way, but he hadn’t hoped for much more. He had imagined bracing himself on the wood and bearing it until the man finished. That was what Jamie Fraser had been prepared for.

But this, he had never expected this.

He’d never expected frantic hands tugging at skin and at fabric. Never expected to bite at Grey’s bottom lip or shiver at the bruises being skillfully sucked onto his neck. He certainly did not expect to be smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths as they clumsily helped each other out of their clothes.

“They’re stuck on my ankles, Jamie.” Grey laughed. “Just pull them off.”

Jamie kissed Grey’s mouth, then leaned up to growl in his ear. “Ye once left me in shackles. Is it not time for retribution?”

Grey glared at him, but there was no malice in it. “I freed you from those shackles, remember?”

Jamie gave in and helped Grey out of his trousers, which left him astonishingly naked. Miles of lean pale skin, splotched with ruddy red, and home to a tall, stiff prick.

“How do ye want me then?” Jamie asked, nervously.

Grey sat up in the bed and gave him a crooked smile. “The real question is how do we want each other.” Then, Grey’s face grew stormy and he whispered, “Tell me what you like.”

Jamie swallowed, his mouth dry. “I dinna ken.”

Grey knelt before him, leaning their foreheads together. Jamie tried to steal a kiss, but Grey pulled back just enough to stop him. “Do you like my mouth?”

“Aye. I ken I do.”

“Good.”

Grey gently laid Jamie back on the bed, then traced hot kisses down his chest to the curls of hair between his thighs. It wasn’t until he felt the warm heat of Grey’s mouth around him that Jamie realized he’d been hard for a while now.

When Grey pulled back, his lips were swollen and plum red, strands of hair falling down over his face.

“Kiss me again,” Jamie said, desperately.

Grey obliged, Thank God, not that Jamie thought God should be evoked at a time like this, but still… he would thank whatever force had Grey kissing him now, licking into his mouth.

Jamie wasn’t quite sure what move it was exactly that flipped him over on top of Grey, but he was grateful for the man’s skill, his practice and ease at doing this, even it brought to mind the men who’d come before him. He did wonder how many there had been, and if he, unpracticed and uncertain, could be anything but a disappointment to John Grey.

But, when he felt his prick slide against another, it knocked all these thoughts from his mind.

He was surprised how naturally it came, to rut against another man like that, to get hard at flat muscles and rough stubble. And he was surprised when Grey offered himself up to him.

“Are ye sure?”

“If I get but one night with you, I want you inside me.”

Jamie felt the rush of blood at those words. He wasn’t sure he could want something like that, but once it was presented to him, he thought he might lose his mind without it.

“Will I hurt ye? I’ve never…”

Grey shook his head. “I’ll talk you through it.”

And Grey did talk him through it. Talked him through getting the oil, and asked for some on his own fingers as well as Jamie’s prick. The fruity scent of olives filled the room as Jamie handled himself, while the tops of Grey’s big fingers disappeared into his arse. The sound of their breaths was enough to get them both high.

“Need you now,” Grey said. “Just go slowly. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Jamie hovered over Grey, between his bent legs. “We can do it like this, with you on your back?”

Grey nodded, tucking a pillow under his back and lifting his pelvis. He ran a hand through Jamie’s hair. “I want to see you.”

Jamie found, surprisingly, that he wanted to see John Grey too. See his face as their bodies became one.

When they were finally together—truly—Jamie as deep in the man as he could be, the taste of sweat and exertion on each other’s lips, it all came naturally. For an act, Jamie had been told was the height of perversion, being with Grey felt like anything but. Their bodies moved hot and heavy together, a push and pull older than anything he could imagine.

It was over much too quickly.

Grey was so tight and hot, so skilled at making the kind of breathless noises that turned Jamie’s blood into gunpowder.

“Are you…?” Jamie asked.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Should I…?” Jamie started to pull out, and Grey locked him in place with legs.

“Please.” He put a hand on Jamie’s face. “Inside me.”

They were kissing again, all of a sudden, and they were kissing when Jamie swallowed Grey’s moans. A warm, wetness coated his chest and he was tumbling off the cliff right behind him.

Out of breath, Jamie couldn’t move, so he waited and went soft inside him.

“Can’t breathe,” Grey muttered against his ear, giving Jamie enough strength to roll off the man and put a hand to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating.

They laid in the shelter of their own breaths until Grey finally said, “I wish today were the only day. That I’d wake up tomorrow and get to live it again.”

Jamie shut his eyes and sat up. “It’s no good to think of such things.”

Again in silence, they both dressed, and now Jamie figured, it really was time for him to go. He was standing by the door and Grey was only a few steps away, frowning.

“I am sorry that you have to leave,” he said, “And not for my own sake.”

Jamie smiled, grabbed Grey by the arm and reeled him in. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.”

Jamie leaned down and kissed Grey for what he knew would be the last time, and found, to his great surprise, that it didn’t break another piece of his already wounded heart. Instead, it seemed to heal some part of a very old, forgotten scar.

“Goodbye, John,” he said.

And Grey replied softly, warmly. “Goodbye, Jamie.”


End file.
